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Read Ebook: Poems of Progress and New Thought Pastels by Wilcox Ella Wheeler
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Ebook has 500 lines and 19766 words, and 10 pages
We have left grey skies behind us, We sail under skies of blue; You are off with me on lovers' sea, And I am away with you. We have not a single sorrow, And I have but one fear - That my lips may miss one offered kiss From the mouth that is smiling near.
There is no land of winter; There is no world of care; There is bloom and mirth all over the earth, And love, love everywhere. Our boat is the barque of Pleasure, And whatever port we sight The touch of your hand will make the land The Harbour of Pure Delight.
ASTROLABIUS
The mighty passion that became your cause, Still burns its lengthening path across the years; We feel its raptures, and we see its tears And ponder on its retributive laws. Time keeps that deathless story ever new; Yet finds no answer, when we ask of you.
At Argenteuil, I saw the lonely cell Where Heloise dreamed through her broken rest, That baby lips pulled at her undried breast. It needed but my woman's heart to tell Of those long vigils and the tears that fell When aching arms reached out in fruitless quest, As after flight, wings brood an empty nest.
Across the centuries there comes no sound Of that vast anguish; not one sigh or word Or echo of the mother loss has stirred, The sea of silence, lasting and profound. Yet to each heart, that once has felt this grief, Sad Memory restores Time's missing leaf.
But what of you? Who took the mother's place When sweet expanding love its object sought? Was there a voice to tell her tragic lot, And did you ever look upon her face? Was yours a cloistered seeking after grace? Or in the flame of adolescent thought Were Abelard's departed passions caught To burn again in you and leave their trace?
Conceived in nature's bold primordial way , You came to earth, a soul immaculate, Baptized in fire, with some great part to play. What was that part, and wherefore hid from us, Immortal mystery, Astrolabius!
COMPLETION
When I shall meet God's generous dispensers Of all the riches in the heavenly store, Those lesser gods, who act as Recompensers For loneliness and loss upon this shore, Methinks abashed, and somewhat hesitating, My soul its wish and longing will declare. Lest they reply: 'Here are no bounties waiting: We gave on earth, your portion and your share.'
Then shall I answer: 'Yea, I do remember The many blessings to my life allowed; My June was always longer than December, My sun was always stronger than my cloud, My joy was ever deeper than my sorrow, My gain was ever greater than my loss, My yesterday seemed less than my to-morrow, The crown looked always larger than the cross.
'I have known love, in all its radiant splendour, It shone upon my pathway to the end. I trod no road that did not bloom with tender And fragrant blossoms, planted by some friend. And those material things we call successes, In modest measure, crowned my earthly lot. Yet was there one sweet happiness that blesses The life of woman, which to me came not.
'I knew the hope of motherhood; a season I felt a fluttering heart beat 'neath my own; A little cry--then silence. For that reason I dare, to you, my only wish make known. The babe who grew to angelhood in heaven, I never watched unfold from child to man. And so I ask, that unto me be given That motherhood, which was God's primal plan.
'All womankind He meant to share its glories; He meant us all to nurse our babes to rest. To croon them songs, to tell them sleepy stories, Else why the wonder of a woman's breast? He must provide for all earth's cheated mothers In His vast heavens of shining sphere on sphere, And with my son, there must be many others - My spirit children who will claim me here.
'Fair creatures by my loving thoughts created - Too finely fashioned for a mortal birth - Between the borders of two worlds they waited Until they saw my spirit leave the earth. In God's great nursery they must be waiting To welcome me with many an infant wile. Now let me go and satisfy this longing To mother children for a little while.'
SLEEP'S TREACHERY
As the grey twilight, tiptoed down the deep And shadowy valley, to the day's dark end, She whom I thought my ever-faithful friend, Fair-browed, calm-eyed and mother-bosomed Sleep, Met me with smiles. 'Poor longing heart, I keep Sweet joy for you,' she murmured. 'I will send One whom you love, with your own soul to blend In visions, as the night hours onward creep.'
I trusted her; and watched by starry beams, I slumbered soundly, free from all alarms. Then not my love, but one long banished came, Led by false Sleep, down secret stairs of dreams And clasped me, unresisting in fond arms. Oh, treacherous sleep--to sell me to such shame!
ART VERSUS CUPID
MAIDEN
Now have I fully fixed upon my part. Good-bye to dreams; for me a life of art! Beloved art! Oh, realm serene and fair, Above the mean and sordid world of care, Above earth's small ambitions and desires! Art! art! the very word my soul inspires! From foolish memories it sets me free. Not what has been, but that which is to be Absorbs me now. Adieu to vain regret! The bow is tensely drawn--the target set.
MAID
The night is dark and chill; the hour is late. Who knocks upon my door?
A Voice Outside
'Tis I, your fate!
MAID
Thou dost deceive, not me, but thine own self. My fate is not a wandering, vagrant elf. My fate is here, within this throbbing heart That beats alone for glory, and for art.
Voice
Pray, let me in; I am so faint and cold.
MAID
Methinks thou art not faint, however cold, But rather too courageous, and most bold; Surprisingly ill-mannered, sir, and rude, Without an invitation to intrude Into my very presence.
CUPID
But, you see, Girls never mind a little chap like me. They're always watching for me on the sly, And hoping I will call.
MAID
Indeed, not I! My heart has listened to a sweeter voice, A clarion call that gives command--not choice. And I have answered to that call, 'I come'; To other voices shall my ears be dumb. To art alone I consecrate my life - Art is my spouse, and I his willing wife.
CUPID
Art is a sultan, and you must divide His love with many another ill-fed bride. Now I know one who worships you alone.
MAID
I will not listen! for the dice is thrown And art has won me. On my brow some day Shall rest the laurel wreath--
CUPID
Just let me say I think sweet orange blossoms under lace Are better suited to your type of face.
MAID
I yet shall stand before an audience That listens as one mind, absorbed, intense, And with my genius I shall rouse its cheers, Still it to silence, soften it to tears, Or wake its laughter. Oh, the play! the play! The play's the thing! My boy, THE PLAY!!
CUPID
Oh, say! I know a splendid role for you to take, And one that always keeps the house awake - And calls for pretty dressing. Oh, it's great!
MAID
Well, well, what is it? Wherefore make me wait?
CUPID
How is it those lines run--oh, now I know; You make a stately entrance--measured--slow-- To stirring music, then you kneel and say Something about--to honour and obey - For better and for worse--till death do part.
MAID
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